From Kings Cross
by DrakeLayne
Summary: After Harry 'dies' in the Deathly Hallows, he arrives at Kings Cross and meets Dumbledore. What if Dumbledore offers Harry a third option, another train? A train that would take Harry back in time, to the beginning of his Fourth Year. With this new train comes a whole new chance to do over those past three years of death and destruction. Canon pairings. Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This first bit in italics is from canon, just to set up where my story deviates from it. On a side note, I will probably focus more on this story than my other one, as for some reason, I find this easier to write than crossover. Updates on this story will (hopefully) be more frequent, at least until school starts back up, but by then I should have some momentum. Anyways, that's enough rambling; I hope you all enjoy the story!_

 _Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, and I do not intend to make any money off of this story, it is purely to satisfy the little muse inside my head. The only part that belongs to me is this little plot I've thought up._

From Kings Cross – Chapter 1

" _I've got to go back haven't I?"_

" _That is up to you."_

" _I have a choice?"_

" _Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in Kings Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to… let's say… board a train."_

" _And where would it take me?"_

" _On." Dumbledore said simply._

 _Silence again._

"Or perhaps, you could board another, less often used train." Dumbledore said stroking his beard.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Well, it is unusual, but it is for a good cause I believe. That is, if you want to take it." Dumbledore was smiling now.

"Where does it go, though?" Harry asked, confused.

"Why, it goes back in time my boy!" Dumbledore grinned fully for the first time in many years. "Yes, this should work out quite nicely." He tilted his head, as if listening to an invisible voice. "They say it should take you back to sometime around the beginning of your fourth year at Hogwarts."

"So wait, that means Sirius would still be alive! And Remus, Tonks, you, almost everyone!" Harry was grinning from ear to ear. "But wait, who are 'they'?"

"Ah, yes, 'they' are more commonly referred to as the powers that be, or god, if you prefer."

Harry's eyes were wide. Dumbledore spoke suddenly as a puff of smoke floated up behind Harry. A train was pulling in to the platform. "And that, my dear boy, would be your train."

"Wait! Professor, should I tell the past you about the time travel?" Harry asked as Dumbledore began to fade away.

"That, Harry, is up to you. If you think it best, then I believe my past self should be willing to help you without too much of a struggle. If he questions you, just tell him, me, that you are sorry about Ariana. I should believe you then." As he said these last few words, his outline blurred, before he disappeared.

Harry turned, the train looked quite like the Hogwarts express, he mused as he stepped off the platform and onto the train as it began to move away. Suddenly, he felt a weight in his left hand that had not been there before, a handle. He looked down, and there it was, his school trunk. As he looked to his right, he could see the countryside materialising around the train, flying by.

"Harry, mate, you alright?" he turned once more, it was his best mate, Ron.

"Yeah, sorry, just spaced out for a bit there." Harry's internal battle began, and was quickly over within a few seconds. "Although, we, I mean you, me and Hermione, and Ginny actually, need to talk in private. Let's go find them."

"Yeah ok mate, wait, why is Ginny coming with us?" Ron asked, looking confused.

"You'll find out once we find them. Come on." Harry was already moving, gesturing for Ron to follow.

They found Ginny first, sitting in a compartment with a few of her classmates; Harry recognised Colin Creevey and Luna Lovegood among them. "Hey, sorry to interrupt, but could we borrow Ginny for a bit." Harry said, poking his head in.

"I'll be back in a bit guys," Ginny said as she left the compartment. Once they had closed the doors, she turned to them. "What's this all about guys?"

"I'll explain shortly, we just have to go find Hermione first, I don't fancy having to explain twice over." Harry said, walking to the next compartment and looking in. "There she is," he opened the door, "Hey Hermione."

"Hello Harry, Ronald, oh and Ginny too." She looked a little surprised as the short redhead emerged from behind Ron.

"Ok, now that everyone is here, I can explain what I wanted to talk to you all about. Now, this may sound a little bit far-fetched, but I'm no longer the Harry who was here just an hour ago. I've come from the future, where I was 17. Now wait," he stopped Hermione as she opened her mouth to interject that time travel of that scale should be impossible. "I can give you proof, this year, Hogwarts is holding a competition known as the Triwizard Tournament."

"Yes, but you could have heard that from one of the adults," Hermione said logically. Ron was also looking unsure about whether to believe Harry when Ginny spoke up.

"Come on guys; let's at least hear him out." Harry smiled at her before continuing.

"Thanks, Ginny. Well, if that isn't enough proof for you guys, Professor Dumbledore has a device called a Pensive—" Hermione gasped, "Those are extremely rare!" She exclaimed as her eyes widened.

"Really? Well that would make sense, I've been wondering why more people didn't use them, they're quite handy." Harry pondered.

"Can someone _please_ explain what a Pensive is," Ron burst out. Hermione shook her head as she spoke.

"Honestly Ron, have you never read a book in your life?" Ron began to turn red, and Harry, sensing an argument brewing, interrupted.

"A Pensive is a basin that one can store and/or view memories in. Once we get to Hogwarts, I can show you my memories of the future, but until then you'll just have to hang in there."

"So wait, you mentioned a 'Triwizard Tournament'," Ginny began, "What is that?"

Hermione spoke up, "Well, it's a gathering of wizarding schools from all over Europe, Hogwarts, Beauxbatons from France, and Durmstrang, from Bulgaria. A single student is chosen from each school by an impartial judge, and they compete to win the Cup. It hasn't taken place in quite a while, due to the high likelihood of death occurring during the competition."

"Well then, why on Earth are they doing it now?" Ron asked, perplexed.

"Well, I'm assuming that they have found a way to make it safer for the contestants. Perhaps a way of preventing younger students from entering the competition."

"That's actually right on the mark, Hermione." Harry said, surprised at her accurate prediction. "The impartial judge is a thing called the Goblet of Fire, and Dumbledore put some sort of age line around it— I mean, _will_ put some sort of age line around it."

"Oh, so basically no one under a certain age could cross to put their name in?" Ginny looked impressed. "Interesting… we should learn how to make one; it could be useful, especially for pranks." She said with a wicked grin.

"Yes, a perfect way to get back at Gred and Forge." Harry shared Ginny's conspiring grin. Ginny looked somewhat surprised that Harry was interacting with her so much more, but was perfectly happy to go along with it.

"So anyways, if you really have come from the future, then could you tell us what happened there? Did the Chudley Cannons win the World Cup?" Harry chuckled at Ron's enthusiasm.

"No Ron, sadly they have still maintained their losing streak." Ron looked downtrodden as he shook his head.

"Well that's not too hard to believe." Ginny said with a quiet giggle.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You and your quidditch," despite her dislike of flying and quidditch, she looked at Ron affectionately as she said this.

Harry noticed, and was slightly surprised that it had taken him so long to in the last timeline. He smiled, maybe this time, he could give them a push in the right direction.

 _A/N: I think I'll leave this off here on a nice note. Next chapter, arrival at Hogwarts and the Pensive! Please feel free to review if you have any constructive criticism to offer or an opinion on the story. Thanks._


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, and I do not intend to make any money off of this story, it is purely to satisfy the little muse inside my head. The only part that belongs to me is this little plot I've thought up._

From Kings Cross – Chapter 2

Harry's current train _(A/N: heehee)_ of thought quickly lead him to his relationship with Ginny, and he resolved that he would make sure that he became friends, and then hopefully more, sooner this time around. He glanced over at her with a smile, before shaking himself and continuing his explanation of the future.

"Ron, while slightly off topic, does have a point," Harry spoke once more, drawing their attention. "We do need to go over what happened, will happen, in the future. And since we have plenty of time, we may as well get comfortable." Harry had just finished speaking as the compartment door burst open. It was Malfoy, and, as usual, he had his entourage accompanying him.

Harry let out a sigh, "What is it Malfoy?"

Malfoy looked taken aback at Harry's apparent lack of interest, but quickly schooled his features back into a sneer. "Potter. I see you still haven't come to your senses for your choice of company, a mudblood and two poor weasels. Tsk tsk."

"Malfoy I will give you one chance to leave this compartment with your dignity intact." Harry said calmly as he held an arm out to prevent Ron from lunging at Malfoy.

"And why ever should I listen to you Potter?" Malfoy then muttered under his breath, "Pathetic excuse for a wizard."

Harry just shook his head looking disappointed. "I gave you your chance Malfoy, I'm sorry it had to come to this. _Depulso!_ " With a flick of Harry's wand, Malfoy flew back into his goons, knocking them all out into the corridor.

Harry's friends stared at him as he calmly locked the compartment door. " _Colloportus_."

Harry turned back to his friends and noticed them staring, "What?"

"Harry, did you think about the consequences at all?" Hermione questioned him.

"Yeah, there's no way he'll admit that I got the better of him so easily. His pride will keep him from winging about this to Snape."

"Hey, his logic is sound," Ginny said, shrugging at Hermione. "Anyways back to the topic at hand, you were saying, Harry?"

"Right," he sat down, patting off some invisible dust. "Yes, we have a lot to go over, but I think we should start with the most relevant topic. Our new defence teacher is an old Auror called 'Mad-eye' Moody, but that isn't the problem, the problem is that the man who shows up is most definitely _not_ Moody. A man named Barty Crouch Junior, a death eater, is going to take his place under cover of Polyjuice."

"Honestly does Dumbledore just not have any screening processes for Defence teachers? We should tell him when we borrow his Pensieve," Ginny suggested.

"I was definitely planning on it. Come to think of it, I should tell you all how I actually came back in the first place. Well, things had been going pretty badly, Voldemort—" Ron and Hermione cringed slightly, but Ginny barely showed a reaction, "got resurrected at the end of our fourth year, honestly guys? It's just a name. Anyways, the war was not going well by the end of what would have been our seventh year, and I'll tell you more about that in a bit. At the end of it, it came down to a sort of final battle at Hogwarts, and I went to face Voldemort yet again, and I let him kill me—" He was cut off by gasps from the other occupants of the compartment.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, distressed.

Ron looked worried and confused, "Harry mate, then how are you here? Are you a ghost or something?" He looked sick at that.

Ginny just looked shocked, her eyes wide, scenarios flashing through her mind, before she snapped out of it, "Harry! Why on Earth would you do something like that?!"

"Hold on a sec guys," Harry said, raising his hands up in front of him. "Let me explain a few things first, ok?"

The others reluctantly nodded their assent, and Harry quickly continued on. "Ok, so you know how Voldemort mysteriously survived after getting hit the rebounding killing curse? Basically what he did was put bits of his soul into different objects, which he scattered and hid. These objects, called Horcruxes, would anchor his soul to the land of the living in case of his death. I know you may be wondering, if they keep you alive, why doesn't everyone just make Horcruxes? Well, it isn't really that simple. To make a Horcrux requires an act of murder in cold blood, and most importantly, that the caster doesn't feel any remorse after doing so."

"Dear God, that horrible," Hermione said covering her mouth with her hand, "Why would someone ever create magic like that?"

"I don't really know Hermione, some wizard, like Voldemort, must have been obsessed with the idea of immortality. The worst part of it was that the night Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow, that's where my parents lived, his soul was extremely unstable, because by then he had made 6 Horcruxes already. The problem is, when he tried to kill me, a bit of his soul was transferred into my scar, making me his seventh Horcrux."

Gasps filled the compartment once again.

"Oh my— that means… is it still there? In your scar?" Ginny, horrified, voiced the question they were all thinking.

"No, when Voldemort killed me, he destroyed the final Horcrux in my scar. When I died, I found myself at some place that looked like Kings Cross. Dumbledore was there, and he explained that because Voldemort took my blood to resurrect himself, my mother's protection was in both of us, and because it was him who killed me, I was able to live, while the Horcrux was destroyed. So then he explained to me that I had a couple choices, I could go on, to death, or I could go back and finish Voldemort off, but then he realised that there was another option, I could take a train back in time to the beginning of my fourth year. And so I stepped onto the train from the platform, and suddenly I found myself here, on the Hogwarts Express."

"Oh, so that moment when you were disorientated, that was you arriving?" Ron realised and his mouth formed an 'o'.

"Yup, that's when the train changed into this one and I went and found you guys so I could tell you. This time I hope that we'll be able to make a difference. Last time so many people, too many, died in vain. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore… Fred, so many others too, even Snape."

Their eyes widened with each name, tears beginning to well up in Ron and Ginny's eyes as they thought of the lively twin dead.

"Harry mate," Ron began slowly, "I can see why you came back…"

"Yeah," Harry said, his head in his hands as he thought of his dead comrades. "They're the reason I came back."

Ginny stood and sat next to Harry, giving him a one-armed hug. "Think of the bright side Harry, everyone is alive again, and you now have the chance to make sure things turn out differently this time. Even if Snape has to be alive too." She added with a small smile, her humour breaking the tension a little as Harry allowed himself a smile.

"Thanks Ginny," he said simply. She gave him a squeeze and released him from her hold. Ron patted Harry on the back, and Hermione gave him a quick hug.

"Yeah mate, we've got your back."

"Things will be different this time Harry." Hermione said, as there was a knock on their door.

" _Alohomora,_ " Hermione whispered before opening the door. It was a prefect, "I just wanted to let you all know that we'll be there soon, so you should change into your school robes." She left with a smile.

"Well, then we can just take turns," Harry said as he and Ron stepped outside to give the girls privacy. Once they finished, Harry and Ron switched places with them, changed, and let the girls know they were done, opening the door to let them back in.

The train began to slow as they could see the lights of Hogsmeade approaching out the window to their right. As they neared a stop, Hagrid could be seen carrying a lantern, wearing a huge smile. After gathering their trunks, they paused to say hello to him as they passed by on their way to the not-so-horseless carriages. They hopped into the nearest vacant one, and began the bumpy ride toward Hogwarts.

 _A/N: It seems we didn't actually get around to the Pensieve scene yet, so that will have to wait until the next chapter. At any rate, thanks for reading, and reviewing if you so choose to._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: The sections in italics (memories) are directly from canon. This chapter has a lot of explaining, as did the last one I suppose. Bear with me though; soon all the explaining shall be over with and we can get on to the plot. :P_

 _Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, and I do not intend to make any money off of this story, it is purely to satisfy the little muse inside my head. The only part that belongs to me is this little plot I've thought up. In this particular chapter, scenes from JK Rowling's book, "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" were used only as a background for my plot, with no intention of plagiarism._

From Kings Cross – Chapter 3

After the quartet arrived at Hogwarts, they realised that they were going to have to wait until after the banquet to speak to Dumbledore. Going up to the staff table to speak with him would cause far too much of a commotion.

As they stepped into the Great Hall, they could see Malfoy sitting at the Slytherin table, sulking and nursing a good sized bruise on his forehead. Ron snickered quietly, pointing him out.

Pansy Parkinson appeared to be incessantly trying to help him, but he kept shoving her away.

The sorting went by slowly until they finally reached the last name, "Yung, Zach. HUFFLEPUFF!"

They ate their meals quickly, but, with the exception of Ron, slowly enough to still be polite. After they had finished their desserts (Harry was glad to once again see his favourite one, treacle tart) they somewhat impatiently waited while Dumbledore slowly finished his meal and stood up to say a few words before dismissing the student body to their dorms.

After Dumbledore finally left the Great Hall, they hurriedly stood up and rushed out to speak with him.

"Professor!" Harry called out as they all caught up with him, breathing slightly heavily.

"Yes, what is it my dear boy?" he said with that twinkle in his eye.

"Can we talk to you in private?" Harry said as he began to recover, and stood up straight again.

"Why of course, why don't you all come up to my office?"

.oO0Oo.

As they walked up the spiral staircase, scenarios were flashing through Harry's mind. What if Dumbledore didn't believe them? What if he decided that it was better they didn't know, and obliviated them? Harry shook himself out of his 'what if's and stepped into Dumbledore's office.

"Right, now Professor, this is going to sound a little strange, but please just hear us out." Dumbledore nodded his assent and Harry continued on. "First of all, we should probably tell you that Professor Moody is, well, not Professor Moody. He's an imposter, by the name of Bartimus Crouch Junior, a death eater." Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly "He is taking Polyjuice Potion, and has locked the real Moody in his own trunk and using his hair to make the potion. And here's the kicker, he's planning on using the Tournament to resurrect Voldemort."

"Now Harry, my dear boy, this is a very serious accusation. You will need to have some proof to back it up I'm afraid." Dumbledore said, peering down his spectacles in a serious manner.

"Well, I was honestly expecting this; I think it will be easier if we could use your Pensieve though." Dumbledore arched an eyebrow, "May we Professor?"

"Yes of course, however, I find myself questioning how you knew I own one," Dumbledore said, as he stood to collect the Pensieve from its place on his shelf. He carefully maneuvered through the field of spindly silver instruments, and picked it up, moving back to his desk with the grace of a man far less than half his age.

"Thank you Sir," Harry said as he looked at the Pensieve, wondering how best to begin. "Well, as you have always told me, I suppose the beginning is a very good place to start." Dumbledore chuckled, a twinkle returning to his eyes. "I have come the future, from about 3 ½ years from now. After Voldemort was resurrected at the end of the Tournament, the Second War began. It was not going too well, you… well, you died sir, at the end of my sixth year. Snape killed you, because you were already dying and wished to pass the elder wand on to him." Dumbledore looked, for the first time in quite a while, very surprised.

Before Dumbledore could speak, Harry held a hand up, "Wait a second Professor I'm almost done, and then we can view my memories in the Pensieve. I believe that will make all this a lot easier to understand. Anyways, in the end it came down to a final battle at Hogwarts, and I was killed by Voldemort." Although Harry had not believed it possible, the Headmaster was looking quite shell-shocked. "I ended up in a place that appeared to be Kings Cross, where I met what I guess was your spirit. Your future-self offered me 2 choices, I could either go on, or go back to Hogwarts and finish Voldemort off. Then he realised that there was another, far better choice. I could board a 'train' that would take me back in time to the start of this year, and so I arrived on the Hogwarts Express."

Harry paused for a moment before continuing, "Your future-self also gave me something to tell you to ensure that you would know I'm trustworthy. He says 'I'm sorry about Ariana.'"

Dumbledore's eyes widened yet again, as a single tear traced its way down his cheek.

"Why don't we see those memories now then," he said, wiping it away with a small, sad smile.

"Alright then Professor," Harry stood, pointing his wand to his temple and slowly pulling out the shining memories, putting them into the Pensieve. He turned to his friends, who had been relatively quiet up until then. "You guys ready?"

After they nodded their assent, they all dipped into the Pensieve, headfirst.

" _On three, right? said Harry. "One – two – three –"_

 _He and Cedric both grasped the handle._

 _Instantly, Harry felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onward into a howl of wind and swirling colour, Cedric at his side._

"This is the end of the third task, Moody entered me into the tournament, and Cedric and I tied for first." Harry's voice drew them from the scene. "The cup was made into a portkey by the fake Moody. The cup took us to… well, you'll see soon enough."

 _Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; his injured leg gave way, and he fell forward; his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last._

" _Where are we?" he asked._

 _Cedric shook his head. He got up, pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked around._

 _They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously travelled miles – perhaps hundreds of miles – for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside._

 _Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry. "Did anyone tell_ you _that the cup was a portkey?" he asked._

" _Nope," said Harry. He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie._

"Oh my god. Is that—" Ginny was pointing at a huge black cauldron in the centre of the graveyard.

"Yeah, that's where it happens." Harry said over his past self and Cedric talking.

 _They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him. He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched._

" _Someone's coming," he said suddenly._

They could see a dark figure approaching the past Harry and Cedric. "That's Wormtail." Harry spoke up again. "See that thing he's carrying? That's Voldemort."

" _Kill the spare."_

 _A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: "Avada Kedavra!"_

The present Harry turned away slightly, not wanted to see it again.

 _Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside him, he was dead._

As Pettigrew tied the past Harry to the tombstone, present Harry pointed something out to the others. "See that writing on the tombstone, it says Tom Riddle, that's Voldemort's father."

Pettigrew began pushing the huge stone cauldron towards the foot of Tom Riddle's grave. Harry's companions continued to watch in horror as Wormtail added each ingredient to the mixture, finally dropping in the baby-like Voldemort.

 _But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron._

" _Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam._

They, that is, all but Harry gasped as they saw, for the first time, the new face of Voldemort.

 _A/N: Ok so there's the first memory, for the next one's I'm going to copy quite a bit less of canon in, and focus more on the characters' reactions to the memories. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!_


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